


Delightful

by Yeomanrand



Series: Rand's Fic Promptly Fills [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The Sandman
Genre: Community: fic_promptly, Crossover, Gen, POV Male Character, POV Third Person, Pre-Canon, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-31
Updated: 2012-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-30 10:27:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeomanrand/pseuds/Yeomanrand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Madness. He shakes it off; a side effect of boredom.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delightful

"You look like my sisterbrother," says the girl hanging off the railing outside Montague Street. She must be a member of his homeless network, Sherlock thinks: one leg clothed in a torn fishnet, the other in a striped thigh-high stocking; the rest of her clothing is as mismatched and her hair as heterochromatic as her eyes.

She lets go with one hand and the force of her pull spins her sideways, flaring out the remnants of a pink gauze underskirt. For a moment, Sherlock thinks he sees a goldfish floating in the air beside her head.

Madness. He shakes it off; a side effect of boredom. 

"Why are you here?" he asks, though one hand is already reaching for his wallet. He hasn't any specific requests out at the moment, was just on his way to badger Lestrade for a new case. She twirls closer to him and he catches a momentary whiff of a familiar scent: equal parts wet leaves, raw honeycomb, book dust.

"I wanted to see you," she says, drawing one hand across his shoulders as she spins around him, "my other brother told me about you. There are seventeen ways to accurately describe the shade of your eyes."

Something like a high shivers along his spine at the momentary flash of fingertips against his lips. His tongue briefly chases the touch; madelines and concrete. She's back against the railing, now, watching him.

"Fever dreams," she says, "are not dreams; they're mine. And love belongs to desire who shares everything with despair."

He blinks; she's halfway down the street. "Only one death to choose," she says, a cotton-candy striped scarf trailing out behind her; she swings on the lamppost and starts to hum "Singing in the Rain" off-key. The notes linger in the air after she vanishes, silver and amber and fairy-green, and Sherlock is almost relieved to see the black Bentley coming around the corner.

As he's begun hallucinating, he will take Mycroft up on his offer.

**Author's Note:**

> For [Fic Promptly](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/110874.html?thread=5241882&style=mine#cmt5241882) "id fic" prompt from d_generate_girl: _Any fandom/Sandman, one of the characters meeting one (or all) of the Endless._
> 
> Hasn't had a beta and probably needs britpicking. Concrit always welcome.


End file.
